Not Gentle
by apermissivemommy
Summary: [oneshot, Azula x Zuko] She waits, tapping her foot on the floor of her gilded cage, and he does, as she expected, arrive on time.


_AN: This has the distinction of being the most disturbing thing I have ever written. It's a lemon I can't stop thinking about, and it is essentially _about _dubcon, so warnings for that._

* * *

She waits, tapping her foot on the floor of her gilded cage, and he does, as expected, arrive on time.

Azula is in her bedroom, although it might as well be a prison at this point. The windows do not open (although she once liked to sleep with the night air flooding her room). The door is locked, and there is no way out (although her father had her locks removed when she was young). Guards stand outside, all trained in subduing her (although she could probably kill them all if she tried).

The waiting is on the brink of agonizing. It is not something she wants; but it is something that she knows will happen.

When she was a little girl, her first loose tooth was an exciting prospect. She was eager to get it out, and dug at it and yanked on it, to no avail. Her mother told her not to touch it and that good things come to those who wait. And so Azula promptly found pliers and tried to rip it out herself, only causing herself a rush of blood, pain, and still a tooth in her mouth.

Zuko came to the rescue when Ozai and Ursa told her she would have to live with the consequences of her mistake. He was clutching a string (or perhaps a wire; Azula cannot recall) and he told her that he would tie her tooth to it and slam the door. That terrified her, and she told him that she could not do it.

_"It just has to happen quickly," he says. "Like ripping off a bandage."_

Azula eventually gave in. And while the pain was sudden and harsh, it was over, and her tooth was out.

This scenario reminds her of her first lost tooth. And she is still trying to recall if it was string or wire when the door opens and Azula can see the distinct lack of the guards who preside over her, or the face of Mai or Ty Lee or anyone else who cares.

Zuko. As she expected.

"Visiting hours already, ZuZu?" and she smirks at her own joke.

"How are you?" he asks, as if it is so important to exchange pleasantries.

Azula just shrugs. She plays fragile, she plays weak, she plays his _poor, mentally ill little sister_ and Zuko falls for it so easily. It would be irresponsible _not _to manipulate him. However, she does not have to suffer through trying to make small talk while under house arrest, because he has already thrown his shirt onto her bed.

She looks up, just slightly, preferring to seem disinterested. He is attractive; she would not deny that. Muscular, almost perfect, save for the scar on his chest that now has branches of moon white and light red crawling up his body like vines. The path of lightning carved through him and left a mark that no _water slut _can erase.

He touches her chin and turns her to face him, and she is stony, silent. His hands slide down her, undressing her carefully. At first it was frantic, rushed, not the kind of thing Azula ever imagined Zuko would do.

The movements are rehearsed but still unnatural, as he takes her smooth, bony legs and wraps her thighs around his hips. Her back is slightly arched against her mattress as his lips crush against her again and again and again.

_"What?" Zuko asks, two weeks after their return from Ba Sing Se. He rubs his eyes as Azula walks into his room, much like he decided to barge into hers mere nights before._

_ "Sh," Azula replies and Zuko is utterly certain she is about to kill him in his sleep._

_ Her knees rest on his mattress and he moves with a burning fist to stop her inevitable attack, but she catches it in her hand with a slow, patronizing shake of her head at his sloppy form, and then presses her lips fiercely against his._

So, Azula did initiate it. Not that she does now. Not that she does now that she is his prisoner and she does not know if she hates him or loves him but she does not understand why he restricts her life to be more _conducive _to her recovery but then at night, always right on time, he does _this_.

She waits as he fumbles with her, her body offering some pathetic reaction, as if it cares even less than her. Her nipples do harden, she is wet and dripping and as utterly confused as usual and she often wonders if he is just as confused.

When his lips touch hers and his arousal presses against her she does moan. It is involuntary and just complicated things. His hands are less gentle now, digging into her flawless ivory skin.

She laid him first, years ago, and it was about dominance and nothing more. He laid her one night after she was recovered and her life was debated about right in front of her. Zuko defended and fought for her to stay with him and it was impressive.

Another moan escapes her rosy lips as his lips touch her left breast.

It was impressive because they all did listen to him. Zuko and Azula have always cared for each other, she supposes. They just had the distinction of _also _being eligible for absolute power, and having a father who enjoyed pitting them against each other so they could not fight him.

Her toes curl. Maybe she does like this.

And when he finally thrusts into her, she just closes her eyes and lets him. He is relentless, she has to admit, and she does suppose she enjoys that.

He is not gentle and that is not what she expects from Zuko at all, yet that is how he is every time. More intensity, pounding her and she is drifting away as if lost on a stray wave. She might like the feeling of him in her, stretching her, or she might not and that thought occupies her mind.

His orgasm comes and she is _certain _that Zuko enjoys it as she feels a flood inside of her and tries not to think about those possible implications. The only question is if she likes it or not, and she has yet to decide.

He pulls out of her and they just look at each other. They have the same eyes and that makes this more chilling. Azula adds a point to _not _liking this during that deep gaze.

"I'm sorry," he says and Azula scrutinizes him for a moment.

"Don't be," she decides and she sits up, kissing him, and this time, she is not gentle.

The point she adds to enjoying this now puts pleasure in the lead above pain.


End file.
